


Dead Air

by SootStained



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 99 percent headcanons, Alt title: BREAKING NEWS: Deldohk finally gets railed, Anal Sex, Balance of Terror, Blood, Crack Treated Semi-Seriously, Crack Treated Seriously, Double Ridged Genitalia, First Time, Humor, I had to edit the tags my plans went off the rails, M/M, Porn With Plot, Romulan Ears, Romulan headcanons, Romulans have sharp teeth, Sharp Fingernails, Smut, crackfic, handjobs, no no not THAT much plot, sharp teeth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:47:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26658418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SootStained/pseuds/SootStained
Summary: He was prepared to die. He did not welcome it. He did not embrace it with relish, even if that was the honor-bound Romulan way. He was decidedly not an honor-bound Romulan.
Relationships: Montgomery "Scotty" Scott/Romulan Commander
Comments: 10
Kudos: 10





	Dead Air

**Author's Note:**

> So me and my friends gave the Romulan Commander from Balance of Terror a name. I blame Misty for this, even though she had nothing to do with it. I'm sorry the wait was so unbelievably long. Enjoy.

Captain James T. Kirk offered help when all around him his ship was collapsing, flames threatening the edges of his uniform. He could hear the creak of weakening metal, his ship's hull screaming with the strain. It was only a matter of time, seconds, possibly. Then he would be dead. Just as dead as his crew, lying crushed under beams and reduced to crackling cinders.

Commander Deldohk closed his eyes. The sting of smoke was trapped at the back of his throat.

He was prepared to die. He did not welcome it. He did not embrace it with relish, even if that was the honor-bound Romulan way. He was decidedly _not_ an honor-bound Romulan.

Commander Deldohk resigned himself to the Enterprise's custody. He resigned himself to their Captain, the rightful victor of their battle. Not because the battle meant anything to him. No. No, Deldohk never wanted that. Always pressured by the ancient Romulan traditions that he never really believed in. At least, not like the others did.

He resigned himself out of a guilty kind of _want._ A horrible kind of selfishness. He wanted to stay alive. Everyone else was gone but he wanted to _live._ And if capture was the only way to achieve that, then… again, not honor-bound.

When the Enterprise had come, phasers ready and photon torpedoes loaded, he had just had a feeling. Something sinking and at the same time rising in his stomach, like this was finally going to be the end. He had felt nothing. No fear, certainly no sense of honor.

Dying in battle was just as terrible as dying anywhere else, he decided. Although, he would have liked it to be on solid ground.

But Kirk had offered help and Deldohk had almost jumped at the chance. His entire ship was dead. No one would suspect a thing.

_They are offering. He is urging me to beam aboard._

_Who am I to refuse?_

His superiors would come across the mangled and charred remains of his ship and assume the deaths of all the crew.

No one chases ghosts.

Deldohk gazed at the cracked and warped viewscreen, only half operable. He nodded, slow and shaky.

"Prepare to beam aboard," Captain Kirk said, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He turned away, stepping up to his captain's chair, and pressed a button.

"Transporter room," he said. A pause. Deldohk could not make out the response. "Yes, Mr. Scott, one to beam over." After what he could only assume was an affirmative, Deldohk could feel the transporter lock on. The feeling of static all over his skin, the golden light. The almost metallic whining, shimmering sound.

The Enterprise was cooled to perfection, a slight breeze floating on a draft into the room. An engineer, all bright red and perfectly combed hair, was there manning the transporter.

He seemed preoccupied with the control panel and paid no mind while Deldohk got his bearings. Simply the fact that he was no longer suffocating in a smoking ship seemed to dull his senses. The mere idea of surviving, when frankly he should not have, made him question whether he was really there.

**_Floating in dead air._ **

His gaze dragged around the room, immaculate, in much better shape than his ship had ever been. He stepped shakily down from the transporter, his hand idly wandering in search of something to hold his weight. Why did he feel so faint? He opened his mouth, all that came out was a dry cough.

The engineer glanced up at the sound. His eyes went wide as saucers and he scrambled to help Deldohk upright, as he was swaying on shaky legs. Deldohk turned his head, almost face to face with the man who was essentially carrying more than half his weight.

He had beautiful eyelashes.

"My God, man!" The engineer cried. "You're bleedin'!" He pressed a hand to Deldohk's stomach suddenly. A sharp pressure made him wince. Not quite pain, but he had been injured enough times to know the pain would catch up to him. His own hand jerked up to the wound, a big gash that he somehow didn't notice before. It was dripping a bright teal, like oxidized copper, onto the thin grey carpet.

"I apologize," Deldohk mumbled. He could feel something inching up his throat, although he couldn't tell what it was. He grabbed at the engineer's uniform, balling up the bright red fabric in his fist as he tried to stand again.

"Your kindness is n— is not— "

Deldohk doubled over and coughed violently, spitting teal blood across the floor. He stared, the color standing out against the neutral tones. That wasn't right. His blood should be _in him._

He heard a click, some soft, lilting words spoken to one's self that he couldn't quite make out, and then:

"This is Scotty... Dr. McCoy? You've got a patient in the transporter room. Urgent. Might be best if ya head down here quick, there's a lot of blood."

Deldohk felt a hand on his back, slowly rubbing comforting circles. He wiped his mouth on his hand, smearing his blood over the pair of leather gloves he wore. With a growl, Deldohk caught the glove between his teeth and yanked it off his hand.

_Suffocating._

His hand shook as he stretched out his fingers, the long, claw-like fingernails scraping against his palm. Deldohk tried to speak again, the metallic sting of blood still on his tongue.

"No," he croaked. "Medical assi—"

The engineer— what had he said his name was? Scotty, maybe— quickly shut him up by taking ahold of Deldohk's hand. It was the shock, he told himself, that made his breath catch. No one touched him that softly. Not ever. Scotty guided his hand to the wound and gently pressed it there.

"You're gettin' medical assistance. Ya need it." He let go of Deldohk's hand and his own palm came away smeared with teal. Deldohk kept what weak pressure he could on his wound. His eyelids drooped, fatigue catching up to him quickly.

He started leaning to the left, catching sight of Scotty's lap rushing up to meet him as he fell.

He didn't open his eyes. He knew what he'd see if he did. The electric bluish white of the lights on the ceiling, maybe Scotty staring down at him.

Deldohk peeked out through squinted eyes.

Scotty noticed him staring, and maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that's what started it all. He gazed down at Deldohk and slowly brought his hand up to his face. Scotty swiped his thumb along Deldohk's cheek, smearing the sweat and grime from his face.

"We should get you cleaned up," he said, almost absently. Deldohk opened his mouth, but he could still feel blood at the back of his throat. He closed it again, not trusting himself to be able to keep it down.

He didn't deserve this kindness, he thought as his eyes slipped shut, this time staying closed.

Scotty sighed, letting his eyes linger on the unconscious face of the first Romulan ever to be seen by humans.

If this was how they _all_ looked, Scotty might just invest all his time into peace with them. Who could resist those eyes? Those lips—

He supposed this must be how Kirk felt.

Bones burst into the transporter room with a scowl and a medical scanner. His timing was impeccable.

"What the hell happened to him?" He snapped, coming to kneel by Scotty.

"He's losing a lot of blood," Bones muttered, after Scotty unsuccessfully relayed the situation. He seemed to prefer opening and closing his mouth very unhelpfully.

"We need to get him to sickbay now. I can't transfuse Romulan blood. If he doesn't get there in the next five minutes, I won't be able to do anything for him."

Scotty felt his heart pick up, something he'd grown used to by now. The amount of times his pulse had increased in the recent minutes was alarming. He considered having Bones look him over once the commander was stable.

And speaking of, Scotty thought, carefully slipping his arms under the Romulan and picking him up as gently as he could, once everything settled down he had to make sure to get a name.

He couldn't keep thinking of the _frankly quite attractive_ Romulan as 'the commander,' now could he?

Bones walked alongside Scotty as they made their way to sickbay. Every once in a while Bones would add an agitated bounce in his step and Scotty would try to pick up the pace without disturbing the commander.

"I wish you had reminded me to bring a stretcher," Bones grumbled, running a scanner over the commander once he was safely laying on a bio bed. Scotty now had a bandage pressed to the wound, keeping pressure until Bones could get a dermal regenerator to poke around and hopefully close up and heal his wound.

The commander had a few small scratches, bruises, and small burns on his face and neck. All to be expected after being rescued from a destroyed and burning ship. Bones set the dermal regen to work and went to write up a report and file away a few previous patient's cases.

"No rest for a CMO," Bones mumbled. He left Scotty in charge of cleaning all the grime off the commander while the dermal regen worked its magic (or, science, as Bones insisted).

Scotty figured it was just something for him to do since it was clear he wasn't going to leave.

Of course, he wasn't sure how the commander would feel about being wiped down with a wet washcloth. He knew that Spock hated water at all times except when he was drinking it. And Romulans were genetic cousins, so how did that work?

He decided to play it safe and see what he could do with a dry cloth and when the commander woke up he'd ask him. Consent and all that.

Scotty moved from the commander's face once it was clear that nothing else was going to get cleaned off and he went to work on his hands. One was still gloved and he gently pulled it off, revealing a surprisingly delicate-looking hand.

The commander had… claws. Almost. It was like his fingernails were long and sharpened to a point. No wonder he wore gloves, those things could take out someone's eye. They were pretty, in a carefully manicured and uniquely Romulan kind of way.

His fingers were shorter than Scotty's but it looked like he'd never touched anything with his bare hands.

Scotty looked at his own palms, rough and calloused from years of manual work. After checking to make sure that the commander was still out cold, Scotty took a chance and held up his palm to the commander's. He had never felt a softer hand against his, considering all his flings refused to be affectionate to him.

"What are you doing?"

Scotty dropped the commander's hand and stepped away, his eyes wide and guilty.

The commander cracked his eyes open.

"I did not say you needed to stop," he mumbled.

Scotty risked a step forward again.

"Apologies, I've never seen a beauty such as yours," he admitted. He could feel his cheeks heat up. He didn't mean to say it. It just… _came out._

The commander sounded like he choked on blood again. He struggled to sit up, to get control over his breathing again.

"A flatterer, are you?" He managed.

Scotty shrugged. He nearly sighed with relief that the commander hadn't been repulsed.

"Only to those I take a fancy to, bein' honest," he admitted. The commander started, a look of bemusement passing over his face. He held out his hand to Scotty.

"It would be prudent to know what we should call each other, then, if you have taken a fancy to me," he said. "I am Co— former Commander Deldohk."

Scotty took Deldohk's hand and shook it, relishing in the way their hands slid perfectly against one another. He wondered where Deldohk had learned of Earth greetings. He supposed he'd have to ask him later.

"Montgomery Scott. Chief Engineer of the USS Enterprise. It's quite a pleasure to meet you, Deldohk." Scotty let go of his hand and tucked the cloth he had been using into the waistband of his uniform.

"I believe the pleasure is all mine," Deldohk muttered, gazing up at Scotty through his eyelashes.

"If you are one to ensure the safety of a stranger then I am honored to have caught your attention."

Scotty grinned. "Well, lookin' like that, I don't know how you _couldn't,"_ he said, punctuating it with a wink.

Deldohk went silent, his lips parted in astonishment. "You— can—" He shut his mouth just as quickly, setting his jaw and glancing away.

Scotty immediately became enraptured by the strong shape of his jaw, the way his lips pursed like he was trying very hard not to speak again. He unconsciously took another step forward, hitting the biobed with his knees and toppling forward.

Deldohk caught him around the waist, sparing him from painfully slipping to the floor. He gazed into Scotty's eyes, their faces so much closer now. It wouldn't take much to lean in and—

_kiss him._

Scotty found himself lost in Deldohk's dark eyes, framed by his delicate eyelashes. He smelled like smoke and metal and the heavy scent got caught in his throat as he inhaled. It _really_ wouldn't take that much to lean closer and kiss him.

If Scotty sat down and thought about _why_ he wanted to kiss Deldohk he'd come up with several reasons, most of which he recognized and some of which he wholeheartedly embraced. Scotty was a man who ran on impulses and instincts 90% of the time.

That is what got him so far.

If Deldohk sat down to think about _why_ he wanted to kiss Mr. Scott, he'd come up with a blank. Deldohk was a man who never thought of himself in an emotional and romantic sense.

That is what got _him_ into the situation he was in.

He did, however, in the basest part of his mind, know that he _did_ want to kiss Mr. Scott. And that same part of his mind said, in sharp whispers, that he _did not need a reason._

Near-death experiences make one appreciate life that much more. That is what they say. They make one really want to live the rest of their days to the fullest. That is what they say.

To the fullest, for former commander Deldohk, was indulging. In everything. He was a ghost now, he could do whatever he wanted. But as one who did not think of himself in an emotional or romantic sense, he did not know what he wanted and it was only natural that he would only think of others.

* * *

Scotty would have loved to say that he made the first move. Would have loved to say that he wrapped his fist in Deldohk's uniform and pulled him closer by the chest until their lips met.

He _could_ have said that, had the very same thing not just happened to him.

Deldohk's fingernails— claws, really— puncturedthe fabric of his own uniform as he grabbed it. Scotty heard tearing as he was yanked forward, his vision filled with those beautiful eyes, dark and almost haunting, eyebrows sharply pointed downward—

A muffed, mumbled question drowned in the tiny space between them and all Scotty knew was that he nodded yes to it.

Scotty opened his mouth on instinct, a gasp escaping him, and there was a clash of teeth and Deldohk's mouth met his. He finally got ahold of himself and steadied his hands on Deldohk's shoulders.

The hand tearing into his collar loosened and slid down to grab his waist. Deldohk's teeth, which he now felt were as sharp as his claws, scraped against Scotty's lips, the smoke and sweat stinging his tongue. He nipped at the corner of Scotty's mouth, breath hot between them.

Scotty had to admit that, despite being totally on board with the way things were playing out, he hadn't expected it.

Deldohk sat up and dragged his hand down Scotty's side, his claws sending shivers up his spine.

He grabbed Scotty's thigh, pulling him closer until he was pressed against the bed.

"Get up here," Deldohk growled, his teeth grazing Scotty's lips as he refused to pull away any farther. That sharp smell of metal focused into the salty, musky scent of sweat as Scotty tilted his head down and buried his face in Deldohk's neck. He nipped at the flesh, grinning when he felt Deldohk jolt.

Scotty didn't understand Deldohk without his universal communicator and even with it he missed some things. An older model, he supposed. That was expected when Romulan wasn't a language they readily expected to need to translate. His translator went eerily silent when Deldohk began mumbling under his breath.

Scotty liked the sound of his voice. It didn't matter whether he knew what was being said, just—

"I could listen to you talk all day long," Scotty muttered, realizing that it was completely true, turning his head to whisper into Deldohk's ear. He felt a shudder, the way Deldohk's breath hitched.

"I said get up here," Deldohk shot back, lifting Scotty by his thighs and pulling him onto the bed. He immediately straddled Deldohk's hips and cocked his head, eyebrows raised.

Deldohk froze. He held Scotty's gaze carefully, not daring to even move his hands from where he was still gripping his thighs. Scotty feared for a moment he'd done something wrong, but then—

Deldohk let his eyes flutter closed as Scotty started rolling his hips, running his tongue along his lips as he did, tasting sweat and smoke. 

"Now what?" He wondered, teasing.

Deldohk groaned, tossing his head back.

"You're being— " he cut himself off with a hiss. Scotty braced his hands on either side of Deldohk's head and leaned down.

"Yeah? What am I being?" He whispered. Deldohk's eyes snapped open and he grabbed Scotty by the hips, his claws pressing against his fabric of his pants and threatening to tear right through.

"Being— so—" Deldohk gasped in a breath and slid his hand across to Scotty's stomach, tucking his fingers under his shirt.

_"Rokhinu,"_ Deldohk growled, baring his pointed teeth.

He squeezed Scotty's stomach, relishing in the little noise he got out of him. Deldohk sat up, keeping Scotty in his lap as he rose up to meet him.

"But I am accustomed to dealing with difficult things."

Scotty was blushing, a giddy smile flashing across his face. He leaned in, peppering Deldohk with soft kisses. His hands roamed, swiftly untucking his belt from the uniform, the sash going too. Scotty started to push up the hem of Deldohk's shirt, fingers sliding against his sweaty skin.

Deldohk could only get so much air between Scotty's kisses, his breaths coming in short bursts. With each exhale he could see Scotty's eyelashes flutter, until he closed his eyes fully, eyebrows furrowed. He rested his forehead against Deldohk's, lips parted and slick with spit.

"Deary, I've got a bit of a problem," he gritted out, flashing a smile that was all teeth. He adjusted his hips, trying to sit farther back on his legs. “Do you think you can take care of that?”

Deldohk let a breath slide out between his lips, his haze flicking down to the growing tent in Scotty's pants that was pressing against his thigh. He hummed, fingers deftly unclasping the uniform pants and tucking his fingers over the hem.

"You don't have to," Scotty corrected quickly, sucking in a breath.

"I know," Deldohk muttered.

Scotty opened his mouth but his words got caught in his throat as Deldohk grabbed ahold of his cock. His hand was surprisingly delicate as he stroked it, gaze trained downwards.

He fell into a gentle, steady rhythm and Scotty let himself relax.

Deldohk watched him, saw his eyes unfocus. He jerked his hand downwards, twisting slightly. Scotty arched his back.

"Ahh—!"

He clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes going wide.

They both froze, suddenly very aware of the fact that Dr. McCoy was just around the corner.

Scotty let a second pass before he lowered his hands and let out a shaky breath. Deldohk cracked a smile, keeping his eyes on Scotty's flushed face as he ran his finger over the tip of his cock. Scotty bit his lip, his thighs tensing around Deldohk's.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Scotty hissed. Deldohk pushed Scotty's shirt up farther and pressed his lips just under his sternum.

"I can be difficult too," he mumbled, smiling against Scotty’s skin.

He was consistent, after that, no more surprises except for how _goddamn talented_ he was with his hands. Scotty felt him do things he'd never even imagined, all while keeping him occupied enough with searing kisses that he was too breathless to risk making any more noise. He’d be damned if Bones was going to interrupt this.

It wasn’t for want of trying, though, for every time Deldohk's claws would brush against his stomach he'd feel it flutter and it was all he could do to keep quiet. He settled for pressing his knuckles hard against his mouth.

"What's going on in here, you—”

McCoy stopped, one hand on the doorframe. His eyes narrowed. Deldohk felt his face heat up in shame, this time. McCoy wrinkled his nose.

"Get out," he grumbled. "Both of you. Outta my sickbay!" He started forward, shooing them with his hands, pointedly not looking at either of them long enough to see any more than he already had. He picked up the washcloth that Scotty has been using and tossed it at his face.

“Out!” he enunciated, turning around and putting his face in his hands. “Kirk and Spock are bad enough, I expected better from you, Mr. Scott,” he lamented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more 👀


End file.
